


Boldly Going

by rougewinter



Series: Boldly Going [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pon Farr, Pre-Surak Vulcan, Slavery, Star Trek AU, Vulcan!Mycroft, Vulcan!Sherlock, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougewinter/pseuds/rougewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starfleet Captain Greg Lestrade and his crew are on a five-year mission in space where danger lurks around every corner. Can they survive it? </p><p>In this episode: Lestrade is assigned the task of transporting Ambassador Mycroft to New Vulcan. An unexpected delay causes complications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m finally doing it! I promised myself to do a fill for the trek au prompt that has been floating around the kinkmeme (which I now can’t seem to find the link to), but now I’m finally doing iiiit! 
> 
> All the Trek tropes, here I come!

Chapter 1

Lestrade looked up from the PADD in his hand when his Navigations Officer relayed to him their ETA to the Federation Space Station. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” The grey haired man said with a smile as he passed the signed document back to his yeoman, “Plot a course to New Vulcan. Once we have them on-board, we’ll head there. Commander,” He said as he stood from the Captain’s chair, turning to Donovan as he straightened his golden shirt. “You have the con.” 

The Romulan nodded and made her way to the Captain’s chair as Lestrade left the bridge. 

Lestrade decided to take a quick detour by the science lab as he had a few minutes to spare. He nodded to Ensign Hooper as he entered, watching her duck her head at his greeting. She was new to the crew, shy and soft spoken, but she had an affinity for the sciences and had a strong willingness to learn, which was why Greg was glad to have her on board. 

It also helped that his Science Officer tolerated her when he barely tolerated anyone, including Greg. 

“Captain,” His Science Officer said without looking up from his experiment. “Is there a reason you’re in my science lab, or did you just come by to _chat_?” Greg couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips at the obvious irritation in Sherlock’s voice at being disturbed.

“Mr. Holmes,” Greg said softly, “Whoever said Vulcans showed no emotion clearly hasn’t met you.” 

The Vulcan did raise his head then, stepping away from his microscope and standing with his hands behind his back. He raised an eyebrow, which disappeared under curly dark locks, as if to prompt Lestrade for an answer.

“Right, well.” Greg cleared his throat before he continued, “I was just wondering if you’d like to join me in greeting-“ 

“No.” Sherlock interrupted, focus returning back to his experiment. 

“I haven’t even finished asking-.” 

“I know precisely what you were going to ask, Captain.” Sherlock said with mild annoyance as he reached for a pipette. “You were going to ask if I would like to join you in the transporter room to greet our guest. Given that I am not your First Officer, nor your Communications Officer, nor your Medical Officer, nor any of the other specialists on board who you could possibly require with you in the transporter room for their technical skills, you would not have extended such an offer unless our guest is Vulcan. 

“I have no desire to welcome any of my species on board the ship, much less the one we are scheduled to transport back to New Vulcan.” 

“How can you _possibly_ know who we’re escorting to your planet?”

Greg didn’t think it was possible for a Vulcan’s sigh to convey both impatience and disgust, but then again, Sherlock was quite an unusual being.

“I know of only one Vulcan Ambassador who is assigned to this quadrant and it is best for everyone involved that we remain in separate parts of the ship for the duration of his stay.” 

Greg turned to look at Molly who sent him a sympathetic smile at Sherlock’s dramatic statement.

“Very well.” Greg said in resignation, “I’ll make sure to _not_ give the Ambassador your regards.” 

Sherlock didn’t bother responding to Greg’s comment, his focus now back on the task at hand. 

Greg shook his head and turned to leave the room. “It’s a good thing you’re a damned good Science Officer.” He mumbled under his breath. 

“Thank you, Captain.” Lestrade heard Sherlock reply just before the doors closed behind him. 

_Damn_ the man and his Vulcan ears.

\--

Lestrade arrived in the transporter room just as their guests materialised on the pad. 

He raised his hand in the Vulcan salute and smiled at them. He watched as a male, with short brown hair dressed in the customary ambassadorial attire, and a female, who looked like she could take them all on in a fight, stepped down from the platform. 

“Ambassador Mycroft, Lady T’hea,” He greeted each in kind, “Welcome aboard the USS B. Baker.”

“Captain Lestrade,” Ambassador Mycroft said as he raised his own hand in a Vulcan greeting, “Thank you for your hospitality and for assisting us on our journey to New Vulcan. We realise the request was on short notice and we do apologise for any inconvenience this may cause you and your crew.”

“Think nothing of it.” Greg said, waving his hand as if to dispel the issue. “We were in the area and were more than happy to help. 

“If you’ll follow me,” Lestrade said, as he turned to the door, “I’ll escort you to your rooms. Your belongings have already been sent ahead.” He smiled as the ambassador and his assistant, who seemed to be more interested in her PADD than in their surroundings now that they were safely on board the ship, followed beside him. 

“Maybe once you’ve settled, I can give you a tour of the ship?” Greg offered, trying to be a good host.

“I’d rather not, Captain,” The Ambassador said bluntly as he and T’hea followed Greg into the lift. “As I would prefer to meditate in my quarters for the rest of the journey.” Lestrade looked at the Vulcans, surprised at the request, but he nodded anyway. 

“Although… perhaps we could visit the Science Lab for a moment. I believe your ship has been outfitted with the latest scientific equipment.” 

Greg smiled at the request, amused that despite all their restraint, most Vulcans seemed to show a subtle but marked affinity for the sciences. He redirected the lift to let them off on the right deck.

“Yes, our Science Officer ensured that we spared no expense on getting the latest technology in his hands.” 

Ambassador Mycroft hummed in agreement as they made their way down the halls to the lab. 

“I imagine Sherlock stated his case quite passionately until the matter was settled.” 

Greg smirked. That was putting it mildly. 

“Wait,” The Captain said when realisation dawned on him. “You know Sherlock?” 

“Why yes, Captain.” The Vulcan said as they stopped just outside the door to the labs. “Sherlock is my brother.” 

Greg’s eyes widened in surprise as he stopped in his tracks just outside the door, staring after the two Vulcans who entered the room before him. 

He heard the sound of glass shattering just as the door closed behind his guests, followed by a loud scream before sounds of angry Vulcan cursing reached his ears. 

With a sigh, he turned towards a passing ensign and asked him to fetch his Medical Officer. If it was indeed Sherlock throwing a very un-Vulcan fit in there, it might be best to have Dr. John Watson at the ready.

-tbc-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [Alphera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alphera/pseuds/alphera). The state of this fic before she worked her magic left much to be desired.

When Greg got back to the bridge, he sat down on his chair and immediately rubbed his temples to ease the migraine. He stifled a sigh as he ran his hand down his face, trying to erase the past half hour from his memory. 

After Greg had the ensign call John, he entered the science lab to keep an eye on his Vulcan guests and watched as Sherlock and Mycroft conversed in Vulcan. The conversation became more heated as Sherlock paced the room, and Greg has heard enough of the Vulcan language to know that there were a few curses being thrown around.

There was one phrase though that caught Mycroft by surprise and caused T’hea to lift her head from her PADD, an eyebrow quirked in interest. Greg wondered if it meant that Sherlock won the argument, but Mycroft simply shook his head and said, “Mummy would be upset.” 

That only seemed to make the Science Officer angrier. Sherlock glared at the Ambassador and left the room, back stiffer than Greg had ever seen it. John arrived just as Sherlock left the room. The doctor looked from Greg to Sherlock’s retreating form then back to Greg again. Lestrade shrugged, honestly not understanding what just transpired, and motioned for Watson to follow Sherlock and get to the bottom of the issue. 

The Ambassador had then turned to him and asked to be shown to his quarters.

“Incoming transmission from Starfleet, Captain.” The ship’s Communications Officer said, bringing his thoughts back to the present. “Priority One.”

“Patch them through, Michaels.” Greg said, sitting up and giving the Admiral that appeared on the screen his full attention. 

\--

Mycroft was meditating in his quarters, replaying the events of his conversation with Sherlock, when the ship’s communicator chimed, calling his attention. He slowly opened his eyes and unfurled himself from his position on the floor. He had asked not to be disturbed for the duration of his stay aboard the ship; Captain Lestrade seemed competent and wouldn’t disregard his request unless it was important. 

The Vulcan switched on the computer, expecting to see the Captain’s face on his screen, but instead it was T’hea that greeted him.

“Please forgive the disturbance, Ambassador,” She said, “The Captain has informed me that there will be a slight delay in our arrival to New Vulcan. A Federation outpost in the Omega sector has sent a distress signal and the crew of B. Baker were ordered to assist. I have been assured that, barring further complications, we will still arrive in a week’s time.”

Mycroft nodded and thanked her, before he shut the terminal down. 

Captain Lestrade was aware that they needed to arrive on New Vulcan before the week was out, but the reason for their urgent trip was left unmentioned. Mycroft trusted T’hea to apply the necessary pressure to ensure their trip was expedited. It had been 34.16 hours since the Ambassador experienced the first symptoms of Pon Farr, and he knew that it would only worsen as the week progressed. He needed to get back to the colony and find a suitable mate before the Plak Tow, the blood fever, took hold of him. 

Not much was known about Pon Farr since Vulcans were secretive of their customs and traditions by nature, especially after the incident with Nero and the destruction of their home world. Pon Farr was their greatest shame, and he knew that once his body entered the mating drive, nothing short of bonding or death will stop it. He swallowed as he imagined the lack of control and logic he would soon experience and once again settled in to meditate. 

\--

Greg was about to call Engineering to direct more power to the engines to hasten their arrival to the outpost when the ship’s klaxon rang a red alert. 

“Klingon war birds, sir.” Donovan said from her post. 

“How many are there, Donovan?” 

“Unclear, sir. I counted three, but it’s difficult to tell with their cloaking devices. There could be more.” 

Greg frowned, wondering if the Klingons were simply itching for a fight or if there was a deeper reason they didn’t want Federation ships in Omega. It was clear however that they were ill prepared to take on the enemy ships on their own.

“Shields up and evasive manoeuvres, Lieutenant Luka, we’ll see if we can shake the bastards.” Greg told his pilot who responded with a nod and did as instructed. 

“Anderson,” Greg hailed his Chief Engineer, watching as the Andorian’s face appeared on his chair’s personal computer, “We need to go into warp. If we make it to the Drexler outpost, we’ll be able to engage the defense systems there and tip the scales in our favour. Put any excess energy we have that isn’t maintaining our shields to the warp drive.” 

“Aye, sir,” The Andorian said with a nod and signed out. 

“Kirra,” Lestrade called his Navigations Officer, “Ready the photon torpedoes. I want them ready to fire on my signal.” 

Greg swiveled his chair to look at Michaels. “Hail Drexler. Let them know that we’re on our way and we’ve got hostiles on our tail.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“They’ve fired! Brace for impact!” Donovan said just before the entire ship jerked with the hit. Greg bit back the curse on the tip of his tongue.

“Shields at 86%!” Kirra said, hands flying over her console as she reported the readings. Another shot from the enemy had them dropping to 70%. 

“They’re hailing us, sir.” Michaels said as he looked at the captain. 

“How are we doing on the warp drive, Anderson?” Lestrade asked his Chief Engineer instead of immediately answering his Communications Officer.

“Give me five minutes.” His friend said over the loud thrum of the engines.

“Make it three.” Lestrade said before cutting his Engineer off. 

“On screen.” Lestrade finally said to Michaels, mouth a firm line as he watched the Klingon captain’s face appear in front of him and his crew.

“Greetings, Captain.” The Klingon said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you into the Omega sector. We Klingons have a particular interest on the planets there.” 

Lestrade’s eyes narrowed, knowing of only one planet that the Klingons would want for their own. It was the same planet that their outpost orbited and the only one in the sector with a vast quantity of Dilithium crystals. 

“You know that we can’t allow you to claim Omega VI for yourselves, especially since the planet is in Federation Space.”

“I expected as much. I hope there will be no hard feelings then,” The Klingon answered with a low growl, “when we shoot you down.” 

The Klingon cut communication before Lestrade could respond. 

The ship was rocked by two blasts that had Greg gritting his teeth as the shields went down to 40%.

“Warp drive activated, Captain.” Luka said, while to her right Kirra chimed in with, “Photon Torpedoes ready as well, sir.”

“Good. Warp seven, Luka.” Greg said as he and his crew buckled in. 

“Punch it.” 

\--

Once the ship arrived at the Omega sector, it was easy enough to engage the security system of the Federation outpost. They were able to take out the enemy vessels when Donovan realised that the ships always uncloaked just a few seconds before firing. 

It turned out that there were indeed only three Klingon Bird-of-Preys after them, the same ones disrupting the Drexler outpost. This had Greg breathing a sigh of relief, because this would give them enough time to still get to New Vulcan within the set timeframe.

However, the B. Baker still had to go down to restock on Dilithium since the fight depleted the ship’s energy to very low levels.

Greg checked in with T’hea once the ship docked onto Drexler, informing her of the situation and reassuring her that they would head straight to New Vulcan once the crystals were replaced. He then visited the Med Bay to see how his injured crew members were doing, as well as to ask Doctor Watson about the state of his Science Officer. 

“He’s holed himself up in the labs again.” John said with a sigh after the patients were all seen to. “Even shut Molly out, and won’t listen to anyone. I’ve never seen him this upset before.” 

Greg nodded and crossed his arms, replaying the scene in his mind again and trying to figure out what the argument could possibly have been about, but he came up with nothing. 

“I’ll try to get through to him again later.” John offered with a smile. 

“Thanks, John.” Greg smiled back before informing the doctor he was heading planet-side for a milk run. 

\-- 

Lestrade was the first to arrive in the transporter room, greeting Anderson who was seated by the console before he stepped up on the platform. 

“Donovan and her crew are on their way, sir.” Anderson informed him, slightly more prickly than usual. Greg bit down on a smirk, knowing that Anderson was irritated at him for blowing one of the ship’s nacelles in the fight. The Andorian would get over it. Lestrade was heading down personally to get them some Dilithium after all. 

“You can send me down first then, Anderson.” Greg said as he bounced on his toes, itching to stretch his legs on solid ground for a while. They’ve been in space for a good eight months and even though Greg loved his job exploring the stars, he couldn’t help but develop a case of cabin fever now and again. 

“Sir,” the blue alien’s antennae twitched in disapproval. “Might I remind you that Commander Donovan and her security team must first assess the safety of the planet on any away mission. Furthermore, Starfleet regulation states that the Captain must always be accompanied by a security detail in the event of--.”

“Yes, I know what the regulation states.” Greg said, waving his hand as he interrupted the Andorian. “But it’s a Federation protected planet, Anderson. We have an outpost right here. There hasn’t been any hostile life on Omega VI for centuries and unless you want me to expire from boredom here on the transporter pad, please beam me down.” 

The Andorian didn’t seem to be fully swayed by the argument, but Greg could tell he’d made his point clear. 

“Don’t make me make it an order.” He said with a smile to let his friend know he was joking. “I promise to get you the biggest crystal down there.” 

“A scan of the planet does show that no hostile life form exists at present.” Anderson said with a sigh. “Very well, Captain. Prepare to beam down.” 

Greg grinned as he heard the hum of the transporter powering up. 

“Energise.” 

He felt the familiar tingling sensation of his particles disseminating just when Donovan came rushing into the room. He couldn’t hear her over the sound of the transporter, but her frantic movements to stop him from beaming down were too late. 

Greg’s gut tightened in fear once he realised the words that formed on her lips.

 _Ion storm_

The last thing he saw was Sally trying to reach him just as the blue lights took him away.

-tbc-


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, [Alphera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alphera/pseuds/alphera) deserves my thanks for the beta-read.

Greg stumbled as he appeared on solid ground, righting himself with some effort as his lungs burned from the drastic change in atmosphere. 

He counted himself lucky that he landed on a planet that supported human life. 

He fished out his communicator, trying and failing to hail his ship. He then tried to find a Federation frequency to get a call out, but he only got radio static for his troubles. He frowned at the bleak results before returning the device into his pocket. He’d try again later. 

He squinted and looked around, taking stock of the deep red sand under his feet and the blood coloured mountains that spread over the horizon. 

Soon, he noticed his shadow growing longer and the heat of the sun against his back starting to diminish, signalling the descent of the sun as the day turned to dusk. He breathed a little easier knowing he wasn’t going to burn to death under the scorching heat, but it still meant he had to find shelter soon since there was no telling how cold the desert would get at night.

When stars became visible in the sky, Greg looked up to figure out his location. He spotted some familiar constellations, but it was impossible for the stars to be laid out in such a manner. The only planet where anyone could see that exact array of celestial bodies had been destroyed. 

At that moment, a deep rumbling growl sounded from behind him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Greg quickly turned to face the beast, eyes widening as his suspicions were confirmed when he came face to face with a Le-matya. 

Greg took a step back, warily watching the huge cat as it stalked towards him. Lestrade cursed under his breath as he found himself without a weapon. He didn’t think running was an option either, given the speed and agility the large beasts were known to have. 

As Greg wracked his brain for other options, the Le-matya chose that moment to attack, fangs and claws bared as it pounced. Greg was dimly aware of the sound of a phaser powering up, but it was only when the large cat was hit that the implication registered with him. 

Greg watched as the beast fell, though it only seemed to be stunned since it was still breathing. He turned around to thank who saved him and came face to face with an Orion. 

He watched as the Orion lifted the phaser rifle, letting it rest comfortably on her shoulder as she stood with one hand on a cocked hip. Greg looked over the woman dressed in a fitted white shirt, black pants and black combat boots. She was also wearing a cropped black leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and her hands were encased in soft black leather gloves. The outfit was topped off with a thick red belt that looped around her hip and Greg could clearly see the weapons she had strapped on to her. 

“Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you coming? That kitty isn’t going to stay stunned for long.” The Orion said with a tilt of her chin towards the large beast. 

“Right!” Lestrade said as he jogged over to the brunette, matching her pace as they headed for the transport truck parked nearby. 

“So… We’re on Vulcan?” Greg hazarded a guess. The Orion’s affirming nod did nothing to soothe Greg’s nerves. He’d heard of instances where ion storms disrupted transporter signals and the unlucky bastards that were caught in it were never seen or heard from again, but no one knew exactly where they went. Greg ran through the few options he had, given his realisation that he might have been thrown into the past, before settling for the best course of action.

“I don’t suppose I could borrow your transport’s communicator?” He asked the woman, “I can’t seem to contact my ship. Something must be wrong with mine because I can’t seem to reach anyone on any Federation channel.” 

There was a quick flash of confusion that passed over the woman’s face, but it was immediately replaced with a smile as she nodded. 

“Sure. It’s just round back. I keep most of my equipment there.” The Orion said as she herded Greg along.

“Thanks for your help.” Greg said with a smile. “I’m Greg by the way.” 

“Adler.” She said with a charming smile, distracting Greg momentarily as he tugged on the doors.

When Greg finally got the doors open, he saw that the back of the transport vehicle had not so much contents, but rather _occupants_. There were men and women of different alien races, stripped to their underclothes, shivering and shackled together to prevent escape. 

By the time Greg parsed together what was going on, the heat of the phaser stun hitting his back had him crumpling unconscious to the ground. 

\--

Greg instantly woke when he felt a hand tapping his cheek sharply. 

“Time to wake up, sunshine.” Adler said as she roused him, pulling her gloved hand back when Greg glared up at her. 

Lestrade blinked away the last of the phaser’s effects as he looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. He was seated in the back of the truck, propped up against one of the sides, and his hands were on his lap, shackled together. He noticed that it was only the Orion and himself left inside. 

Greg swallowed, not liking his odds when he saw two muscular male Orions with collars around their necks suddenly appear by the door. 

“You know, it’s very rare to see a human in this part of the system.” Adler said lightly, standing upright and looking down at Greg with a smirk. “Especially someone as handsome as you.” The wink that Adler shot him did nothing to comfort the nerves in Greg’s belly. “I’m sure you’ll fetch me a good price. Now, be a good boy and come with me.” 

Adler walked to the entrance of the truck before glancing back at Greg, eyes narrowing when she noticed he wasn’t moving. “Honey, it’ll be in your best interest to play nice. Otherwise, I’d have to ask these men here for some help,” She patted the head of one of her Orion slaves, “And the price for you, as damaged goods, will drop significantly. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

The dark glint in Adler’s eyes told Greg she was more than willing to carry out the threat, so he rose to his feet and followed her out of the vehicle. 

It was still night time when they exited the truck; the lively noises of a bustling city told Lestrade that they were no longer in the desert. The vehicle was parked in a dark alley but the red glow from the main road confirmed Greg’s suspicions as to which part of the city they were in. Greg followed obediently behind Adler as she slipped through the backdoor of one of the buildings, the two male slaves flanking him on either side, while his eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, taking note of his options for escape. 

The group walked through a narrow hallway before arriving at a dead end. Greg watched as Adler raised her hand and tapped a code into a specific part of the wall, lights blinking once it accepted her input. The wall immediately slid back to reveal a lift with black interior and Adler stepped in, motioning for Greg and her boys to hurry after her. 

As they started to ascend, Greg looked to see how far the climb was, but the elevator had no numbers on it to indicate the storey, only an up and down button to indicate the direction it should go. 

When the lift doors opened with a ping, Adler walked out, guiding the group down another corridor before taking a turn at the end. There were numerous large doors lined along the hallway, but their destination lay behind a smaller door. 

Past the entrance was a prep-room, where Greg saw some of the faces of those held captive in the truck earlier. They were made to wear black collars indicative of their rank as slaves, and Lestrade hazarded a guess that he would be in similar attire as well. Greg swallowed the lump in his throat as he was led through another door to an adjoining room, wondering what Adler had planned for him. 

“Get him ready.” Was all the Orion said before she left him to a group of slave girls to do as she instructed. 

\--

Greg shifted in his grey Starfleet issued underpants, forcing himself not to tug on the black leather collar on his neck as Adler walked around him. He was glad that they removed the shackles binding his wrists, but the way Adler’s gaze pinned him in place made him feel more trapped than when he had the cuffs on. She hummed as she inspected him, stopping once she was in front of him again and huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I didn’t think humans were so…squishy.” She said offhandedly as she poked at Greg’s belly, making him jump a little in surprise. His reaction seemed to amuse her.

“Come along, Greg.” She said, crooking her finger. “Time to see who’s interested in buying a human.” 

Greg frowned but followed after her, biding his time as his brain wracked for a way to escape while he remained hyper-aware of her lackeys behind him. His bare feet were silent as they walked along the carpeted floor to a larger room down the hall. There, he joined a few other slaves and was made to stand near the end of the line. They were all instructed to keep their heads down and to stand still until all the clients finished making their purchases. 

Greg complied, only tilting his chin down very slightly to show his deference, while still allowing him a good view of the room. 

He was expecting a crowd to gather but when the main door opened, only one client stepped through. 

Greg couldn’t see the buyer clearly, but it seemed that the other being was immediately interested in him since the footsteps of the other being grew louder as it approached him. When Greg gave in to his curiosity and lifted his gaze, his breath caught in his throat.

Greg didn’t recognise the buyer at first because of the wild, curly black locks that ran until his shoulders, but as the Vulcan stopped in front of Lestrade, Greg instantly knew who he was.

He bit his tongue to keep from reacting, but he had no doubt that the Vulcan already noticed his surprise. 

Sherlock tilted his head to the side as he looked at Greg, some curls coming loose from where they were previously tucked behind a pointed ear. Once he seemed satisfied with what he saw, Sherlock righted himself and grinned, which looked odd on the Vulcan’s usually stoic face. 

Greg’s theory of being transported to the past was thrown out the window. Lestrade had known Sherlock since their days at the Academy and never once did Sherlock wear his hair at such a length. Which meant that he was most likely in a parallel universe where Vulcans were expressive and were more involved in the slave trade industry.

“Finally buying one for yourself, Mr. Holmes?” Adler asked as she stood next to Sherlock.

“Oh no,” Sherlock said as he turned to face the Orion. “This one isn’t for me. I’m getting him for my _dear brother_.” The clear disdain in Sherlock’s voice when referring to Mycroft had Greg wondering if there really was such a thing as universal constants. “Shall we talk about price?” 

Greg was quickly spirited away by Adler’s attendants to prepare him for his new owner. 

-tbc-

**Author's Note:**

> [Alphera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alphera/pseuds/alphera), as always, deserves my thanks for the beta.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to [Mushroom](http://mushroom18.livejournal.com/), since I teasingly dangled bottom!Kirk a few months back and yanked it away just as he and Spock were getting ready to get it on. Then my pc crashed, which dashed any hopes of my gifting said pushy/needybottom!Kirk fic to her in time for her birthday. 
> 
> My apologies again bb and I hope you enjoy this verse!


End file.
